The journey became faster as Richard began to fly.

The man was right. He felt more comfortable now that he had the fall array of limbs on.

If anything, combat was better in some regards.

When challenging quadrupedal monsters, RIchard found it easier to evade their attacks.

Being smaller and gifted with wings improved his agility by a good measure.

Of course, the trade was that this body was more susceptible to damage, not only due to size, but also due to being on two legs, which was inherently less than it had been before, but as such was always expected for smaller forms.

Richard was satisfied with it in terms of utility at the very least.

It was time to see how it would deal with the pressure of society.

----------------------------------------

Mountain city was what he'd expected, though sister Alexandria was surprised.

"Where's the mountain?" She asked, clearly surprised.

Richard responded, recalling the history books he'd read through. "It disappeared around a century ago, according to history books, and firsthand accounts. What has once been a mountain, has since become a hill. People insist the mountain was huge, though people have went since find this to be a tall tale, and thus it has been regaled as a tall tale. People have been jokingly call it "Mole hill city." because, you know." He said, and sister Alexandria responded. "Because mountain out of a molehill, I get it.

Richard amusedly added as well. "Funny enough, moles seem to find themselves attracted to that hill, and the place serves as a habitat to all sorts of mole monsters. In fact, the few beast tamers who exist often encourage beast tamers to get a mole as their first familiar."

Sister Alexandria nodded, though she couldn't help but look at the city reminiscently. "To think it's been so long. I still remember when that mountain still stood. It was said by the locals that the god's resided upon that mountain."

Panda snickered. "Uh oh, grandma's getting nostalgi- ck!" He choked out the last words as sister Alexandria smacked him over the back of the head hard, as a vein popped out on her head.

Richard sighed and merely moved on.

"What do you think we should do now?" Richard asked sister Alexandria. "Should we wait outside the city in preparation for Lyssandra and her assaultants, or go inside and set up preparations within?" He asked.

Better to seek the advice of the experienced than to rely one's own lack of experience.

Sister Alexandria responded with a nonchalant expression. "No worries, I can sense everything happening within, and outside the city if I desire so. The second she and her pursuers appear within my perception, we can rush there immediately. If we stay out here too long we could easily be misinterpreted as malicious."

Richard agreed with her reasoning. As expected of someone with greater experience.

"So we'll stay near the periphery of the city within the entrance area?" Richard suggested, and thus it was settled.

They would stay near the entrance to detect Lyssandra's presence, and rush to intercept her pursuers.

After that...

Richard wasn't sure honestly. It was something he wasn't quite sure

He was excited at seeing an old friend.

How would she feel about him?

Would she think he looked good, more like her? Or would she see him as a pale imitation?

He hoped not.

Maybe he could buy the dragonewt design from the shop s that he would be a proper dragonewt,

Richard had conveniently forgotten that dragons were revered by all dragonic races, and that Lyssandra would not care about how his dragonewt form appeared, she would likely appreciate the dragonic presence all the same.

Unfortunately, the intellectually smart can often find themselves lacking in emotional intelligence.

----------------------------------------

They managed to get in without a hitch, but there was no doubt they were being eyed warily by the human guards, this time no mind washing maniac to forcefully change their opinions.

The city was interesting.

No, saying such was a disservice. It was impressive.

Mountain city has always been something of a dwarven city, and this could be seen in the architecture.

Its buildings were all clearly built out of stone, meant to endure the worse. They were all like miniature fortresses, to the point that even some of the smaller ones had their own cannon positioned out the windows.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Even the poorest of houses was clearly designed with warfare in mind. If there were no cannons, there were

It was beautiful, in a utilitarian way.

The dwarves themselves were rather blunt.

Not in a bad way. On the contrary, it was quite refreshing. Richard had been worried about being stared at by many, and many did look.

But that was just it. They looked, they snorted, and then they walked away.

Why did they snort?

According to sister Alexandria, it was that we were gearless.

It was recorded in the history books and biographies pertaining to dwarves that they had a high appreciation for construction and weapon forging, and this appeared to be true here as well.

He hadn't realized it would also mean disdain of those who were gearless.

The wyrm in lamia form shrugged. "They see those who are without gear as fools, fools who either do not realize the importance of it, or do not think they need it. They tend to disdain races like lizardmen for this reason, who do not believe themselves in need of metal gear, believing their skin to suffice. Elves seem to fit on that list as well, amongst a plethora of other reasons."

Richard nodded in understanding. True, elves and dwarves seemed to dislike each other a great deal, and the difference in the way they arm themselves was but one way.

I hear another reason is that when the elves were fleeing their homeland's civil war and seeking refuge in dwarven lands, due to their previous disagreements, elves were turned out the front gates, leading to many elves dying, and merely worsening those relations.

That was thousands of years ago, yet elves seem to remember this grudge well. I suppose with a lifespan of 1000 years, what seems long ago to others was merely a few generations ago for them.

I wasn't against collecting dwarven gear. On the contrary, I would do well to purchase some. Partially to blend in, given that Atlas would likely stand out as a symbiotic weapon, and the fact that in this "dragonewt" form, my body was far more delicate than my dragon form.

Even if I was ready to use Atlas at a moment's notice. You never know when you'd be caught unawares.

It wasn't a bad idea to have some gear prepared for such a moment. Grant had said it best. You never know when a big fish will appear.

So, Richard went shopping for gear.

Hopefully, he could find something useful.

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"This is!-" Richard said, astonished.

The dwarf merchant shrugged indifferently. "Piece of trash I found in the middle of nowhere. I'll sell it to you at a discount hmm? 3 silvers seems fair for the quality.

Richard answered immediately. "Deal!"

The dwarf looked at him as if he had managed to lock in a sucker. It was a look of embarrassment, as if he hadn't expected the dragonewt in front of him to have poor senses.

He even wondered if there was something special about the item he missed, but ultimately he didn't see it, only seeing himself punking a pansy.

"Fine, pick something else out as well. I'd feel bad to sell you such a piece of trash for 3 silvers. Pick out a dagger or something." He said waving his hand.

Richard tried to refuse; the piece of junk as it were, was more than enough for him, and yet the dwarf insisted, and eventually, Richard reluctantly picked up a chainmail vest.

That was the end of the interaction, with both sides leaving the deal believing that they had taken advantage of the other.

What was this piece of junk?

A pair of rusted braces.

Clearly, the two were far older than they should be to be of any use. Yet Richard had felt a strange attraction, causing him to cast appraisal on it.

And lo and behold:

[The Braces of Thor]

[Once used by a mighty god of war to lift his great hammer, the braces have long since rusted, having lost their master. They have been ill maintained, and no longer have the luster they once had.

They are by no means useless however, for a spark of vitality still exists within these braces.

They resonate with the Atlas Beetle Arms and you, sensing a familiar breath.

Integrate into the Atlas Beetle Arms? Notice, this is not a permanent combination. Upon the beetle's death, the braces will separate from the beetle, and return to their dormant state.

Braces will only be able to demonstrate 5 percent of their full strength currently.]

The braces were clearly special, in spite of their rusty appearance.

Richard wasn't sure if he would do as the system suggested. It seemed as if the braces in their current status were unable to exert their fully ability in resonating. If that were the case it might be worth finding a dwarf who could fix it.

But who could he trust for such a job? They would have to be competent enough to be able to fix something that once belonged to divinity, undoubtedly making it a powerful artifact, yet trustworthy enough that they would be willing to help him without ulterior motives.

A difficult selection to be sure.

When he explained as much to sister Alexandria, her eyes squinted thoughtfully. "Unfortunately, we came a little too late. I used to know a dwarf who was quite good in these things. Sadly, he's been dead for a century or so. Shame. He'd be quite eager to do this." She said as a little melancholy could be heard in her voice.

Richard was reminded of the warning he had reserved.

He may have time, but others do not.

Dragonewts have lifespans akin to that of an elf, and though that was long for men and dwarves, for dragons it was merely a tenth of their life.

The thought was something that Richard out out of his head and his determination to intercept her pursues increased, and he came to hate his father just a little bit more.

----------------------------------------

Clang! Clang!

The sound of swords clashing could be heard as Lyssandra used her blade to fight off the surprise attackers.

She had thought she'd been smart, tracking the escort from a distance, relying on her beastly abilities to evade their senses.

She hadn't expected that they had noticed her from the beginning, and preparing appropriately.

And now she was surrounded.

Her help likely wouldn't be here in time, even if she fled.

Noticing her thoughts, the leader barked a cold laugh.

"Hah! I heard about you from the lord. They said your father was a great general. To think you're all that's left. He would be so disappointing."

Her eyes lit up with rage as she snapped back. "Scum like you don't have the right t say his name. Not after what he sacrificed for this damn empire, and how it scorned him!"

The man shrugged indifferently. "Be that as it may, in the end, the living are the ones who get the last laugh. Your father may have been a great man, but it's not the great that rule this world, but the smart. He failed to see this in the end." He paused before maliciously adding.

"Like father like daughter I suppose."

"HENSHIN!"

Both groups turned to look in surprise as a shining light followed the angry roar.

A giant man covered in silver armor stormed through as he shouted angrily.

"You don't get to talk to her like that!" Roared the unknown man.

The voice... It was so familiar, and yet it couldn't be...

Richard?

----------------------------------------

All he felt was rage seeing her appearance, how they had clearly cut her off and whittled her down.

The proud yet kind dragonewt was now reduced to tatters.

Because of him...

Because of his father!

And those last words...

Those were the last straw.

Ignoring rationality, and screaming the words, he charged into battle.

They would regret those words.

He would make sure of that.